


The Invisible Enemy

by MysticIris



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticIris/pseuds/MysticIris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a battle with some orcs in Mirkwood Forest, Legolas finds there are some enemies that even he can't defeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Invisible Enemy

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own the world or any of the characters in this story. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

* * *

The Fourth Age: 3085 Mirkwood Forest

The wind whipped through the elf's long blond hair as his horse galloped through the forest. Legolas enjoyed the feeling of his free flowing hair moving in the swift breeze and smiled as he gave it a playful shake. His companion, seated behind him on his mount, held an entirely different opinion on the matter.

"I can't count the number of times I've said it laddie," came the familiar gruff voice, "but you really should cut this wild mane of yours. One of these days, I'd like to ride without the taste of elf hair in my mouth."

Legolas smiled. "Then perhaps you would like to try riding on your own again? I'm sure Alyan would be happy to oblige you."

"No!" Gimli said a little too quickly, remembering the last time he had tried to ride the elf's horse, only to end up falling out of the saddle multiple times. The dwarf cleared his throat noisily to cover up his outburst. "I mean, much as I'd like to, we don't have time. We've got to catch up to those blasted orcs before they cause any more trouble!" Gimli grinned at the thought of finding the orcs, gripping his axe handle in anticipation. "Of course, if you'd like to stay behind and leave them all for me, master elf, I would be more than happy to get rid of them for you."

"Don't be absurd, master dwarf. How could I possibly turn down the opportunity of outscoring you?"

"Outscore me?" Gimli snorted loudly. "You've been drinking too much of that Elvish wine. It's affecting your judgment."

Legolas retorted and the banter continued on for some time. Though he enjoyed it, as he always did, the elf's heart was not entirely in it. Secretly, the elf had not been entirely sure that bringing Gimli along was a good idea. He did not doubt his courage or the swing of his axe, which seemed as strong as ever, but the elf had begun to realize that his friend was aging. Gimli was getting older, as the increasing number of gray strands in his thick beard reminded him.

He was not the only one either. Before this trip into Mirkwood Forest, Legolas and Gimli had been paying a visit to Aragorn in Minas Tirith. The King was in high spirits, as always, but Legolas couldn't help but notice that his full black hair now had large patches of gray all throughout it and his face had more lines than it did before. Merry and Pippin, who had moved to Gondor recently, also came to the castle to share in their reunion. Both Hobbits, who were once a constant stream of movement and energy, were now well into their nineties and age had slowed them both down considerably, Legolas had, of course, remained the same as he had when they had first gathered together to become the Fellowship of the Ring.

Seeing his friends being slowly diminished by time's flow was a painful thing for the elf, though he tried to hide it as best he could. Truthfully, he was thankful to still have them, even as he saw the signs that time was pulling them away. There had been many loses in these past decades. Frodo and Gandalf had left many years ago, but Samwise Gamgee had also recently left for the Gray Havens. Eomer, King of Rohan and loyal friend to the Fellowship, had perished only a few years ago. His death had been hard on both him and Gimli, since they had both become close to the horse lord after the War of the Ring.

Gimli had also suffered a more personal loss, as his father Gloin had passed out of this world. Though it had been many years since it had happened, Legolas knew that the death had affected him deeply. The elf had met Gloin after the War of the Ring when the pair had traveled to the Lonely Mountain. Though Gloin had been less than thrilled with Gimli's elf friend when they first met, especially after he found out he was the son of Thranduil who had locked him up in a dungeon, the old dwarf had come to accept Legolas after a few visits. The elf had been sorry to see him pass, though he could only imagine what the pain must have been like for Gimli.

Legolas's own father, Thranduil, was still alive and his kingdom flourished inside Mirkwood Forest. For that, Legolas was very grateful, even if he and his father still did disagree about his choice of companions. It had been many years since Legolas had introduced Gimli to his father and even though Legolas had named him elvellon, his father had never accepted it. As the years came and went, the elf prince knew Thranduil probably never would, though he was grateful that his long tirades on the matter had died down.

It was actually on their way back from Gondor that Legolas and Gimli had decided to visit Eryn Lasgalen. Thranduil had been so happy to see his son again after such a long absence that he had tolerated having the dwarf around without any of his usual complaints. A feast was prepared in their honor and they had all settled down for a nice meal when a report came back that a large band of orcs had been sighted wandering close to their kingdom. The guards had managed to scare them off, but a small force was assembled the next morning to go after the orcs to make sure they didn't cause any more trouble.

Though the realm had been relatively peaceful since the War of the Ring ended, roving bands of orcs and goblins were still known for making trouble throughout Middle Earth. Legolas and Gimli, who had recently helped drive some orcs away from the lands around Minas Tirith while they visited Aragorn, were eager to volunteer. Thranduil had allowed his son to go, though not without a questioning look as the dwarf mounted his horse behind him. The Elven King had instructed his son to stay close to the other elves during their journey and Legolas had reluctantly agreed.

_Though 'close' is a matter of perspective._ Legolas thought with a smirk as his horse continued to gallop in front of the other elves. _They can still see me. That's close enough for me._

After all, the Prince of the Mirkwood thought it was a bit ridiculous that his father still wanted him to be looked after even to this day. He was one of the Nine Walkers, who had taken part in one the most dangerous quests of all time and survived it, not to mention all the skirmishes he'd been involved in since. He wondered briefly if he would ever be anything other than a little elfling to his father.

"Legolas," Gimli's voice broke him out of his revelry as they continued to ride through the forest, "I think we're getting close."

Legolas then heard the distinct sound of orc voices not too far away from where they were. The elf prince looked behind him and gestured to his right. The other elven warriors nodded and some moved to close the gap between themselves and the prince, while the rest moved away to the right so they could hit the orcs from the opposite side. The blond haired elf turned away and readied his bow. He felt the dwarf prepare on of his small throwing axes for the initial encounter.

The guttural sounds of the orcs grew more frantic as they must of just caught the scent of elf flesh in the air. Before they could organize themselves, however, the elves burst into the clearing where they had been resting with Legolas at the head of the riders. The elf prince loosed his first arrow and with a sharp twang it embedded itself through the neck of an unlucky orc.

"One." Legolas said as the orc fell to the ground dead.

"One." Gimli yelled behind him as the din of battle began to get quite loud. The dwarf drew another small throwing axe and threw it straight into the chest of a charging orc. It gave a savage cry before it collapsed forward to the ground and lay still. "Two."

Legolas smiled as he drew a fresh arrow. Their old game had begun.

By now the orcs had managed to regroup and were keeping a circular formation, trying to strike at as many of the horses as the could in the hopes of throwing the riders. Gimli, understanding the tactic, leaped from Alyan's back and landed right in front of a group of orcs. Soon, the dwarf was taunting them and swinging away, his axe quickly felling all the orcs who dared approached him. His count climbed steadily higher as Legolas shot the orcs down from his horse, not wanting to be beaten by the dwarf.

The orcs, now distracted by the axe wielding dwarf in their midst, became easy prey for the remaining elves. It seemed that the battle would be over quite quickly. Legolas shot off two more arrows, bringing him even with the dwarf's count, when his ears picked up the sound of pounding feet coming towards them. The other elves seemed to sense it too, for some of them had turned their horses away from the battle in anticipation.

In mere moments, more screaming orcs came into their clearing. Howling with rage, they ran forward with their crude weapons and struck at those unlucky enough to be in their way. They began to surround the horses and hack at both mount and rider from every direction. The elves who were caught in the assault scrambled to keep themselves from being unseated. The remaining orcs from the original group were heartened by the appearance of their allies and moved to attack the horses from behind, adding another layer to the chaos.

Cursing their ill luck, Legolas's bow sang as he tried to keep the orcs from overwhelming his kin. The familiar battle cry of a certain dwarf gave him hope as he saw his long time friend rush towards the besieged elves, ready to acquaint the orcs with his axe. Gimli literally threw himself into the crowd of orcs, causing many of them to stumble and lose their footing.

"Fall back!" Legolas shouted over the din, seeing an opportunity to get the other elves out of harms way. "To me! To me!"

Those elves that could quickly drew back to the left side of the battle field where Legolas was calling for them. When they were beside him, he saw that several of their mounts had suffered injuries and some were limping from various cuts on their legs. Grimacing at the sight of the poor animals, he dismounted and told Alyan to go hide in the forest until the battle was over. His horse huffed at him and shook its head obstinately, but after a few more hurried words from the elven prince, the horse finally gave in and fled.

Legolas quickly instructed those with injured mounts to dismount and let the animals take shelter in the forest. The remaining elves who were still on their horses were to fire their bows from behind the lines to decrease the orcs numbers. The rest of the elves on the ground drew their swords and knives, readying themselves for melee fighting. Legolas drew his own knives and ran ahead of his kin, leading the charge.

Gimli was still effectively holding the line against the charging orcs, as Legolas knew he would, shouting out the number of his kills in a boisterous voice. "Fourteen." He said as he removed his axe from the chest of one orc and swung it into the chest of another with a loud crunch. "Fifteen!"

Legolas smiled again as he ran up beside his friend and slew an orc with one quick swipe of his knives. "Twelve." He swung his knives again and again, eager to catch up to the dwarf. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!" Legolas yelled as his knives blazed through the air, spilling orc blood all over the field.

It continued on like that for a few more moments, the elf and dwarf completely caught up in the battle hardly noticing the arrows whizzing past their ears. The orcs, realizing now that their cause was lost, started to make a run for it. They scurried away, nearly tripping over each other as they made for the safety of a nearby cave.

"Oh, no you don't!" Gimli cried as he ran after them as quickly as he could. "You're not done meeting my axe yet!"

Legolas sheathed his knives and took out his bow, catching up to the charging dwarf with ease. The elven prince thought he heard another elf call out to him, but he ignored it. He fired a shot that went straight through the heart of his enemy. They could not let the orcs get away, for he knew if they did they would simply find more of their kind and regroup to launch another attack. He had seen it happen too many times in the past.

Gimli entered the cave without hesitation, giving a deep battle cry that rang out in the caverns. Legolas, with only a slight bit of hesitation at going underground, followed his friend inside. The pair just got past the entrance of the cave when the orcs in the back of the lines turned to face them. Axe and arrow glinted in the dimming light as both warriors prepared themselves for the onslaught. Comforted by the presence of the other and knowing each others moves by heart, the pair made short work of the orcs.

"Twenty-five!" Legolas shouted as he fired another arrow. "Twenty-six!"

"Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven!" Gimli countered between kills.

The counting continued as both elf and dwarf were drawn deeper into the cave. Legolas shot off arrow after arrow, racing ahead as the enemy began to retreat. The orcs tried to hurry away from the elf, but he was too quick for them. Soon, they were all feathered with arrows and lay among the dead. Legolas examined his surroundings to be sure there were no more enemies lurking about. When he was sure that he was safe, he placed the arrow back into his quiver and turned around to give his final count to the dwarf.

"Thirty-eight!" Legolas said, expecting to see the dwarf standing nearby. He was quite startled to see that he was alone. Gimli was nowhere near him. The elf used his eyes to peer into the darkness that surrounded him to the right and left. There was still no sign of the dwarf.

"Gimli?" He called, hoping perhaps that the dwarf had meant to scare him and this was all some kind of trick. The elf prince waited for a moment, but there was no answer.

"Gimli..." Legolas whispered to himself in fear as the silence continued to press in around him.

A twinge of fear went through him as he started trotting back the way he came. He looked frantically back and forth throughout the cave. The elf tried to remember the last time he had heard the dwarf's voice and realized that it was somewhere back at the beginning of the cave.

"Gimli?" Legolas called again as he ran through the cave, deftly dodging the corpses that littered the path. He pushed away the dark thought that said that perhaps the dwarf was one of them and continued searching until he found something that made him stop in his tracks. Reaching down, he picked up a decorated helmet that was a sporting a large dent on the left side. A dwarf's helmet. Gimli's helmet...

Now dread filled the entirety of his being as his eyes scanned the battleground, looking for any sign of his stubborn companion. He ran forward again, clutching the helmet to his chest as if to steady the pounding of his heart inside his chest. The orc corpses were littered all over the floor, some in piles on top of each other. His elf eyes were strained as he scanned every inch of the floor, searching and searching for signs of his lost friend. Finally, as hope began to dwindle, he spotted something that made him stop in place. There, underneath the lifeless arm of an orc, was a patch of thick auburn hair.

Rushing over, Legolas quickly pushed the orc corpse to the side and gave a small sigh of relief as he found the dwarf underneath it. The relief was short lived as he saw how pale the dwarf was. His breath came out in ragged wheezes and there was sweat beading on his forehead.

"Gimli?" The elf placed his hand on the dwarf's shoulder and gave him a small shake. He received a weak groan in answer, but no more. Searching for the source of the trouble, his eyes caught an unusual amount of stickiness around the left side on the dwarf's head. The elf grimaced as his hand reached down and touched the side of his friend's head, only to come away covered in blood. One of the orcs must have struck a heavy blow to his head that had knocked his helmet aside.

"Hang on, my friend," Legolas said softly as he gently picked up the fallen dwarf only to find more slickness coming from the dwarf's back. Crouching back down and turning the dwarf on his side, he grimaced again as he saw the cruel slash that was going down the length of Gimli's back.

He must have been ambushed from behind when I ran further into the cave. Legolas thought grimly as he examined the extent of the damage. He was no healer, but he knew the wounds needed attention. I need to get him back to Eryn Lasgalen now!

Getting up and carrying the dwarf in his arms, Legolas sprinted towards the entrance of the caves. He stopped briefly, seeing Gimli's double sided axe embedded in an orc corpse. He pulled it out, knowing his friend would never forgive him if it was left behind, and slung it on his back before continuing his run.

The battle outside the caves had been won a couple of moments before and now the other elves were busy trying to clean up the clearing that was littered with orc corpses. A brief glance told him that none of his own people seemed to be laying among the orcs, though he could see that some had been injured. One of his father's guards had been coming towards the cave, clearly looking for him, when he stopped at the sight of the elven prince holding a fallen dwarf.

"Get the wounded on horses and get them back to Eryn Lasgalen. We can take care of the orcs later!" Legolas stopped briefly to bark the order, then turned and ran as fast as his legs would carry him into the woods. He heard a few of the elves call out to him, but he did not stop. He couldn't stop, not so long as Gimli was unconscious and bleeding in his arms. He had to get help.

Legolas whistled a tune as he sprinted through the forest, his light feet treading easily and avoiding all the pitfalls of the forest floor. He whistled again and soon his horse Alyan came running towards him. Legolas quickly got Gimli seated in front of him on the horse and then they were off again, blazing through the woods. The elf quickly whispered a desperate plea into the horse's ear and the creature ran as it never had before.

As the forest whirred past him, the blond haired elf took another moment to examine his friend. Though he saw no new wounds on the dwarf, he did notice something he taken in before. The hair on his friend's head had been obscured by his helmet and without it he could see all the large patches of gray that were now entwined with his auburn hair. The top part of the dwarf's braid was almost nearly gray. The elf's frown deepened as his eyes took in the state of his friend's hands. Though they still looked strong, there were far more wrinkles and creases on the skin then there had been before, as if they were starting to wear down.

Legolas clutched his friend tighter and closed his eyes, berating himself. _How could I be so foolish? I saw the signs back in Minas Tirith. My friends are not as young as they were. Their bodies have slowed over the years. They're not the same as they were when we first formed the Fellowship. And yet, I brought Gimli with me anyway and I got caught up in our game..._

The elven prince opened his eyes and watched as they sped quickly through the forest. He clutched one of Gimli's hands in his as they drew closer to their destination. _Gimli has never been struck so hard by mere orcs before. I never had to worry about him all these years we fought together...but that's no excuse. I should have been more careful. I may not be able to stop the flow of time, but I can watch my friends' backs and keep them from harm._

He looked at his free hand still unmarred by the flow of time. The elf had always known he would remain the same for all his long years, while all the other mortal races on Middle Earth dwindled and faded with time. He had been told this all his life, but it was only now that the fact really struck him. He was fated to watch his friends be pulled away from him, be slowly diminished by something he could not stop. Something he could not fight...

The thought of being alone on Middle Earth without Gimli, Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, Faramir and all the others pierced him so deeply that he almost cried out in pain. His eyes began to sting and he turned them, burning with fierce anger, towards the sky. _Curse you!_ He cried out in anger to the gods that had given his friends mortality, that had brought the slow death of time into the world. _Curse you for taking them away from me!_

Legolas hated the helplessness that he had started to feel in Minas Tirith. He had been beside his friends on the field of battle countless times, protecting them with arrows, guarding their backs and using his skills to help them whenever he could. By his own hands, he could try and ensure their safety against all who would have harmed them, but there was nothing he could do about this invisible enemy. No amount of effort or care could truly defeat time.

He pushed away the crushing thoughts as he saw the kingdom of Eryn Lasgalen come into view. He rode up to the entrance before the guards appeared before him and his horse came to a stop. He hopped down from the tired animal and gave it a small pat of appreciation before getting Gimli down. Gently, the blond haired elf brought the dwarf down and then turned with wide eyes to the elven guards in front of him.

"Please open the gates! My friend is injured and he needs help now!"

The elves moved quickly to obey their prince, who sounded more than a little upset and Legolas rushed inside as soon as the gate had been opened. He quickly found a healer who took Gimli out of Legolas's hands and into the healer's quarters. The elven prince stood anxiously by, helping whenever he could to attend to his friend's injuries. The healers assured Legolas that the injuries were not serious and that the dwarf would heal up quickly enough after a long rest. Though he was relieved by the news, Legolas still insisted on staying in the room until Gimli woke up. The healers, after attending to the few minor cuts he had acquired, left him in peace with the unconscious dwarf.

Barely an hour had passed before his father appeared before him bearing a tray of food. Thranduil, dressed in deep green robes with silver flowers and vines weaving in patterns across the front, smiled at his son as he accepted the food and placed it on his lap. Legolas smiled warmly enough back, though inside he knew his father hadn't just come to give him food.

"I'm glad to see that you are safe, Legolas." He started simply enough, folding his hands in front of him. "Some others from your party have returned and tell me that there were more orcs attacking them then were expected."

"That is true." Legolas responded calmly. "We had the orcs surrounded and were beating them back easily, but then reinforcements arrived from within the woods. They surrounded many of our horses and they might have taken down some of our riders had Gimli not rushed them with his axe." The elf looked sadly at the still unconscious dwarf who had moved but a little since being brought into the healer's quarters.

Thranduil saw his son's sad eyes, but said nothing of the dwarf's heroic actions in battle. In truth, he really didn't know what to say about it and was more concerned for his son's welfare than for the dwarf's. "Legolas, you should rest. You have endured a long journey from Minas Tirith and have just come back from a long battle. The dwarf will keep until then. Come and let me walk you back to your room."

Legolas jutted his chin out stubbornly at the offer and crossed his arms. He made no move to get up. "I can rest just as easily here as I can in my room father. I see no reason to leave. Besides," he added before his father could argue, "Gimli wouldn't leave me if I was injured like this unless he had no other choice. I will not abandon him when he was injured on our people's behalf."

Thranduil opened his mouth again, but after one look into his son's fiery eyes he closed it firmly. He knew that expression, as he had made it many times itself. There was no arguing with a Greenleaf when they looked that way. Sighing as he gave into his son's demands, he came by and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Just make sure you take care of yourself as well, all right?" He removed his hand and was relieved to see his son smiling back at him.

"I will father. You don't have to worry about me."

Now Thranduil gazed at Legolas with a warm expression on his face before he smiled and said, "I will always worry about you, Legolas."

With a small shake of his head, the Elf king left the room, leaving Legolas to his thoughts. After a moment, the blond haired elf sighed to himself and closed his eyes in exasperation. _I guess I'm still his little elfling, even after all these years. Although, I guess I should be thankful that was all he had to say to me. I don't think I could have handled another speech about the flaws of mortals and why it's not wise for elves to put so much faith in them. Not right now..._

Legolas stared at Gimli's pale face, his state remaining unchanged. Sighing again, Legolas decided it was best if he ate the food his father had brought for him as he was a little hungry. As he nibbled on a piece of cheese, his mind wandered to the old grievances between elves and dwarves. He knew them all, having heard his father go on at length about them all his life, but he also knew that many years ago dwarves and elves had gotten along as friends. Each side blamed the other for the breaking of these bonds, but as Legolas looked at his friend's graying hair, he was beginning to wonder if there was something behind these tales other than just prejudice.

_Pain._ The word came to him unbidden and yet it resonated within him. _We elves will live to see many ages of mortals come and go. To make friends with them, to share our lives with them even as they fade, even as they leave us and we live on...To live on with only their memories for all those long years...Is there any greater pain?_

Legolas looked at Gimli again and thought of all the good times they had spent together. He thought of Aragorn and of the hobbits, then of all his other friends from the Fellowship. A smile, born of both happiness and sadness, appeared on his face.

_Perhaps some of this prejudice was to prevent the pain of elves. Mortality is painful to us, yes, but not as painful as never knowing these mortals at all. Of never sharing their lives with ours..._

Legolas thought about this for a long time as he waited for his friend to wake up. The afternoon crept into the evening and soon Legolas found himself drifting in and out of sleep as he sat by Gimli's bed. He resisted as long as he could, but soon he found himself drawn fully into the lull of sleep. When he returned to himself, he thought he had only dozed for a few moments and was shocked to see that daylight was pouring into the room. He stretched, scolding himself for sleeping so long, when a familiar gruff voice almost startled him out of his sleep.

"Glad to see you were keeping such a careful watch on me, laddie."

Legolas almost jumped from his seat in surprise at the sound, then turned his body towards his friend. Gimli was sitting up on his bed, looking at him with an expression of mock offense on his face for having caught him sleeping. Legolas, feeling relief fill his whole body at not just finding his friend awake, but also able to jest as they normally did, stood up immediately and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Well, watching a sleeping dwarf really isn't the most interesting of tasks."

"Says the flighty elf that likes to stare up at the trees for hours."

Legolas could have retorted, but he decided not to as he gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm glad you're all right, Gimli. I was very worried when I found you injured yesterday, you know."

Gimli smiled at the remark, but he waited for a moment before responding. He seemed to be studying the elf in front of him, though Legolas didn't know why. Finally, he said, "You've been worrying about me far longer than that."

Legolas blinked at the comment, wondering what the dwarf was getting at. His thinking was interrupted when Gimli turned to the side of his bed and made a move to get up.

"Wait! You shouldn't be moving around so soon." The elf said with his voice full of concern.

The dwarf snorted in answer. "If I don't move around soon, I'll start growing roots and become one of those trees that you like so much, master elf. I've laid around long enough waiting for you to wake up."

Legolas knew the comment was meant to spring him into their usual banter, but he ignored it this time. He saw Gimli move stiffly out of the bed and onto the floor. The dwarf stretched a little bit and winced a little bit at the pain in his back where his wound was. The elf, now frowning at the sight, stepped in front of the dwarf who appeared to be interested in walking around the room.

"Gimli, you should be resting. You were wounded pretty badly yesterday."

"What?" The dwarf looked at him incredulously. "You mean this little scratch? I'd hardly call that a wound. It doesn't deserve the title." When Legolas still made no move to get out of the way, Gimli began to feel exasperated. "You really don't need to mother me, master elf. We dwarves are sturdy race and fast healers besides."

"I'm not mothering you." Legolas replied stubbornly. He still didn't move out of the way. "I only want you to get better. You need to rest."

Gimli looked back at him for a moment with his eyes narrowed in consternation. Yet, the elf could also see a touch sympathy in them, though it was hidden well. Finally, the dwarf dropped his gaze, though not before releasing a large sigh.

"Aragorn really didn't want me to do this," he muttered as he turned around and walked towards his bed, "but it seems I have no choice."

Legolas tilted his head curiously at the words as Gimli picked up his axe, which the elf had placed by his bedside, and walked back towards the elf prince. He stopped when he stood right beside him, an all too innocent smile on his face. Then, without warning, the dwarf aimed a hard kick at the elf's left shin.

"Ouch!" Legolas cried out as the blow connected. He bent down and rubbed the stinging area.

"That was for Aragorn." Gimli replied with a smirk. Then, without warning, the flat of his axe connected with the elf's left knee, sending him tumbling to the ground. The elf gave a small cry of surprise as he sat back up and rubbed his sore knee. He glared at the dwarf who merely brought the axe back towards his body and leaned against it. "And that was for me."

Legolas, feeling both bewildered and angry at the actions of his friend, stood up slowly, wondering if perhaps the head injury had done something to his friend's mind.

"What was that for?" He demanded bristling.

"That, master elf, was for treating your friends like they were going to drop dead at any moment just because of a few gray hairs."

Now Legolas froze with his eyes wide as he stared down at the dwarf. Trying to recover himself, he spluttered, "I haven't—"

"You have." Gimli retorted firmly. "Ever since we've got to Minas Tirith in fact, you have done nothing but look like you were about to worry yourself sick over us."

The blond haired elf looked away guiltily. "I tried to hide it..."

Gimli snorted loudly at that. "Then, you did an extremely poor job at it. Even Pippin noticed it, and while I love the little hobbit, we all know he isn't always the most perceptive halfling in Middle Earth. You're lucky he and Merry didn't ask me to knock some sense into you the way Aragorn did, otherwise you'd have two more bruises to manage."

"Aragorn asked you to knock some sense into me?"

"Well, perhaps not so literally, although he left it up to my own interpretation." Gimli replied vaguely, smiling to himself. The smile faded as he continued to stare at the elf. "He did tire of your constant hovering my friend, as did I after a time. We realize it is difficult for you to watch us all age, while you remain young, but that doesn't make us invalids lad."

Legolas tried to say something, but Gimli kept going. "It doesn't help us for you to worry yourself so much. We don't want to be the cause of pain for you, as we already know that it's painful enough for you to stay here when you're constantly being called by the sea. We're not gone yet, Legolas. We've still got life in us and we don't want you grieving for us while we're still alive."

Legolas hung his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hide his pained expression. "I'm sorry." He whispered softly, letting the dwarf hear some of the pain that he felt in his heart.

Gimli's expression softened for a moment before he tapped the elf's left knee with his axe. The elf prince winced a little at the touch and met the dwarf's eyes. "If you're sorry about it, then you should let us see your friends see you smile again and stop worrying over us. Otherwise, I might have to leave you a few more reminders that there's still strength in us."

Legolas tried to smile at that, but he couldn't completely manage it. Gimli sighed and walked slowly past the elf, making his way towards the door.

"Think of it this way elf," Gimli said as he reached the door with a teasing smile, "you may still be younger than us, but you shouldn't worry. We older folk won't hold your inexperience against you."

Legolas just stood and stared at the dwarf with his mouth slightly ajar. He thought about arguing with the dwarf about everything that was wrong with that statement. Instead he just laughed at the ridiculousness of it and a great weight released itself from his heart. He looked up to see Gimli chuckling a little with him and he smiled. A true smile this time, unweighted by grief.

Gimli beckoned him and they walked side by side as they headed down the hallway. The dwarf's stomach growled loudly and he placed a hand on it as if to settle it.

"After I get back to my room and change into something more comfortable, how about we drop by the kitchens and get a late breakfast?"

"I will accompany you master dwarf, though I don't need to eat."

"Hmph." Gimli said in reply. "And when was the last time you ate, master elf?"

"Oh, about eight hours or so ago. I really haven't kept track."

Gimli stared at him. "Eight hours? You could drop dead any moment and you say you don't need to eat?"

Legolas laughed. "Not all of us have food on our minds all the time, you know."

"Not all us have common sense is what you mean," Gimli retorted. "Flighty elf."

"Stubborn dwarf."

Thus, the banter between the elf and dwarf continued as it would for many years in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I've been on kind of a Lord of the Rings kick recently, so I got the idea for this story and decided to write it. I hope it was enjoyable. I've always really liked the friendship between Legolas and Gimli and I wanted to try and write something about what it'd be like for Legolas as they got older.

On another short note, since this story takes place well into the Fourth Age of Middle Earth, I decided Arod probably wasn't alive anymore, or if he was he was very old, so Alyan is one of Arod's foals and is Legolas's new horse. Alyan is Elvish for 'blessed,' at least according to the site I read.

Thank you for reading the story! Please leave a review if you have time.


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